


I Found

by TheWolves24



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Shyness, Unresolved Tension, sixth year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolves24/pseuds/TheWolves24
Summary: So, I was listening to the song I Found by Amber Run, and decided on this concept of a story. I hope you enjoy it! Summary below!The battle was won, and those who had passed on were being grieved for. Hermione has a lot to say to one of the ones who has passed. However, there is an interesting backstory as to why she is so upset to him being gone. Why can't he remember it?





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione stood in front of the portrait, her eyes skimming the man.

Sigh.

Why was she reacting this way? It wasn’t like he _remembered_.

He was sleeping, and only a person speaking to him would wake him up. He would definitely not be thrilled that it was _her_.

Oh well. She needed to tell him these things, for her own sanity.

Clearing her throat, she wiped her eyes quickly, puffing her chest out.

“Professor Snape?” She started.

He stirred, raising his eyes to look at her.

Hermione’s eyes widened, but she stayed glued to the spot, not wanting to lose her stance right now.

“Miss Granger. What a _pleasant_ surprise.” He started, sighing, annoyed with her presence seemingly.

“Sir.” And she felt the knot of nerves work its way up her throat, clenching itself tightly in her stomach.

“What do I owe this dishonor?” He sneered, flicking his thumb at the arm of the chair.

Hermione just stared at him, feeling her chest rise and fall, her eyes were welling up with tears that she could not for the life of her suppress.

Portrait Snape raised a brow at her reaction.

Hermione looked down, biting her lip, gathering her wits.

Sighing, she looked up again.

Be strong.

“I-I want to know why.” She said, emotion thick in her voice.

He looked at her like she was stupid, saying nothing.

“I want to know why you _allowed_ yourself to die.” She snapped, feeling the sadness leave, replaced swiftly by anger.

He still said nothing.

“You could have saved yourself! You knew Nagina was a horcrux, you’re n-not stupid. You knew there was a chance he would turn against you!” Hermione scolded him, her voice raising with each word.

She was panting as he processed her questions, his black eyes narrowed.

“Granger. Why does it matter?” He finally asked her in response.

Hermione took a step back, afraid to answer his question.

She didn't want him to know.

Not the _extent_ , anyway.

It was too embarrassing.

No-one knew of her repressed feelings for her Professor.

Not anyone who was still _living_ , that is...

She chalked it up to his brilliance, and the air of authority that always wafted from his person.

“Stop your daydreaming, girl!” He snapped.

Hermione looked at him, not understanding how he could be so…calm with being in that frame. And for no reason!

“I think it matters. You died…” Hermione felt the lump returning to her throat….“You died right in front of me.”

He only raised an eyebrow.

Why didn’t he care?

Silence.

“Miss Granger. I do not know what you want me to say to you. Do you honestly think my life was this precious thing to me?”

Looking at him stupidly, finally shutting her eyes, dispelling the horrid images rushing through her mind at Naginis bite, and the blood caking him in the boathouse that night.

Hermione just shook her head numbly.

“No. I don’t. That was _obvious_. A person who values their life would have tried to save it!”

His eyes narrowed at her presumption.

“What does that mean, exactly?” He demanded.

Hermione dropped her book-bag, folding her arms.

“You put all your time into Lily Evans! I saw your memories. The one’s you gave to Harry. Her death was not your responsibility. That was on Peter Pettigrews shoulders. _Not yours_." She hissed.

Snape tightened his grip on the chair handles profusely, the rage building in his dark irises.

“None of that is your business. Potter should not have shown you any of that! My reasons for holding onto Lily’s memories are _**mine**_. I don’t give a damn what you make of it, Granger. Now, get out of my sight.” He said, his voice laced with malice.

Hermione was having none of it though. He would not threaten her! It had taken months to confront him, and he would not rob her of what she had to say!

“You held onto her memories because you loved her.”

Severus’s nostrils flared, his eyebrows twitching.

Silence.

“And why does that matter to you, Granger?” He sneered.

Hermione felt her eyes well with tears, which seemed to stun the portrait of Severus Snape.

“Because I cared about you when you were here.” She mumbled, swiping her eyes with the back of her jumper.

_I told you that._

When you still remembered.

Hermione lowered her head.

“I had no fears that you wouldn’t survive the war, because you were so clever, and brave. Even if you bullied some students, you still tried to help.” She admitted, watching his facial expressions.

She wasn’t finished.

“Then. You allowed that madman to kill you. Even though you knew it was a possibility he would set Nagini loose on you. I-I didn’t understand it. And even knowing the reason. I _still_ don’t understand it.” She finished, feeling the tears drop.

Snape only stared at her. Sighing, he closed his eyes, raising a thin hand to his temples.

“Miss Granger. You’re emotional. You’re young, you were….” He cleared his throat, “You were confused.”

Hermione almost guffawed.

“I know what my feelings were!” She snapped.

_And so did you._

But, she didn’t want to allude to that fact right now.

“If you say so.” He told her, sighing once more, uncomfortable with this topic.

Hermione felt her fingers trembling, reaching her hand out to glide her finger against the roughness of the frame that the former headmaster was in. He seemed to blanch, sitting firmly against the back of the chair.

The younger witch felt her tears bubble up, burning her throat, tickling her lower lash line. Biting her lip, she released the wood, allowing her hand to heavily drop to her side, turning her eyes downward, not bearing to look at him anymore.

Why?

Hermione started to sob then, Her right hand coming up to cover her eyes as the heaves left her petite frame.

Professor Snape watched as she fell apart in front of him. It made him uncomfortable, not understanding why his death had effected her so.

But…Hermione _knew_ why.

Dropping to her knees, she wrapped her arms around her trembling shoulders, trying to slow down her sobs.

Of course he wouldn’t know…

He wouldn’t…

All thanks to Professor Dumbledore…

And his _interference_.

Looking back up at the portrait, Hermione saw his black eyes furrowed on her, confusion covering his features.

Hermione closed her eyes.

A year ago Professor Severus Snape had been obliviated by Professor Dumbledore.

All because of her.

 _Her_.

 _Her_.

The headmaster had seen what the younger witch was doing to his spy, and decided to obliviate him until after the war was over. Professor Dumbledore had left the memories with her when he had passed on, but Hermione had never gotten the chance to give them back to Professor Snape.

He had died before she could.

 _One year earlier:_  
Hermione sat in the alcove, crying at the display she just had to witness.

Stupid Ron and Lavender… _snogging_.

Wiping her tears away, she looked outside, seeing the Twilight hours starting to roll over the hills of Hogwarts, kissing the courtyard as the sun hid itself within the shelter of the darkness.

Footsteps drew her attention forwards, and she scrambled up, ducking in the darkness, trying to play keep away from any prying eyes that would report back to Ron that she had been crying.

And teachers docking house points for being out after curfew.

Ugh.

Hermione kept her eyes trained ahead, watching as a black shadow walked past the safety of her tight alcove.

The person stopped walking, raising their head in the air, as if they heard her heart beating.

Like a shark could hear their prey.

Professor Snape.

He turned his head suddenly, only showing his left profile, but one dark eye found her brown one, and he arched a thin, black eyebrow at her.

“Miss Granger. Do tell me why you are hiding in the alcoves? Trying to hide from your presumptuous friends?” He asked, voice condescending, and acrid in his blatant distaste for her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but moved out of her hiding space.

“N-No sir. Just looking for a quiet place to think.” She lied, but not altogether, that summation was true. _Kind of._

“You definitely won’t be doing much thinking around the Dunderheads of Gryffindor. Ten points from your house, Miss Granger. Now, scurry along before I remove more.” He threatened, turning his head, and walking away from her.

Ten points?

Only ten for being out after curfew?

Usually he took about thirty.

But, ten?

Hermione eyes followed his form down the hallway, confused at his behavior.

What was that?

 

Hermione sat in Defense against the Dark Arts the next day, still thoroughly confused, and astonished that he hadn’t ridiculed and taunted her more than necessary. He usually took great pleasure in making his students squirm.

Especially the Golden Trio.

Ron and Harry were talking about a Qudditch team when the door to the back of the room banged open.

And in waltzed Professor Snape.

Hermione eyed him in study, he looked…

Different.

Like he hadn’t slept in days, dark bags sat under his eyes. His hair looked lankier, the usual anger in his eyes for being there, had been quenched, dowsed, only to leave the vague numbness. Eyes devoid of anything.

Hermione winced.

Something was wrong.

 _Something_.

It had been obvious when he basically paid her no attention in the hallway.

But…why?

Last year he was relishing in the punishments, well, not _all_ of them that Dolores Umbridge was eliciting.

This year, he seemed dead.

Dead while walking.

Hermione cleared her throat, noticing the tension in the room climb with every passing second.

Shaking it off, she opened her book to what they were studying.

 

After class, Hermione slowly packed up her books, watching as the others filtered out around her.

She had a question, and she would rather he insult her while she was the only one in the room, then have a group of students laugh at her expense.

“P-Professor?” She called to him, before he sat down.

He looked at her, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Miss Granger. I had hoped to not hear anything from you at all today. I guess that wish won’t be coming true.” He snapped at her, but with no feeling whatsoever. Usually, there was ice and mirth in his tone, but, it was tempered down, dispensed with nothing but emptiness. Like he was forcing himself to insult her, to save face.

Strange.

Hermione plucked her book up, walking over to him.

“I-I wanted to ask you about the cruciatus curse.” She began, watching his features.

Nothing.

Hermione bit her lip, closing her book and shoving it against the front of her uniform. Even when he wasn’t being threatening, he always wafted the air with superiority and dominance.

“Well, ask your question.” He snapped once more.

“Y-Yes. Sorry, sir. Is it true that you have tremors after the curse is placed upon you?”

He was a death eater. He would know for sure.

Glancing her over, he sat back in his chair and sighed, rubbing his temples.

“It depends on how long the castor has you under the curse. If it’s only once, the chances are slim that you’ll have any nerve damage. However, if they have you under the curse for hours, or long stretches, then, yes, chances are you will have some sort of damage to your nervous system.”

Hermione’s fingers skimmed the front of her book, listening intently to what he was saying to her.

Had he been put under the cruciatus for a long period of time? And if he had, what was the reason?

“That is not your business, Granger.” He hissed like a serpent.

Hermione shook herself free of her thoughts.

Oh, so he caught that?

“I-I’m sorry sir. I know that you’re a-a-a..”

Clamping her mouth shut, she looked away from his heated glare, and scurried back to her seat.

Plucking up her bag, she turned once more to him.

“Thank you for answering my question.” She squeaked, turning to the back, and almost bolting through the door to escape his presence.

Walking through the halls, she was confused now more than ever. The old Professor Snape would have gave her detention for weeks if she had brought up what he was.

Why not now?

I will be continuing with this story and Forced!

Please tell me what I should add into this story, your thoughts, and your own ideas! I'd love feedback!!

Love,  
H.


	2. Chapter 2

"Miss Granger?" A voice called out to her.

Hermione wiped her eyes, standing on her feet now, feeling two pairs of eyes on her.

Professor McGonagall was moving towards her, eyes creased with worry.

"My dear, what's wrong?" She asked her top student, looking around the vicinity for the culprit of the woman's distress.

Hermione stared at the frame behind Professor McGonagall, the person going still, their black eyes staring straight forward to her.

"It's nothing, Professor. Just having trouble sleeping." She said, that not being a lie _at all._

 _"_ Well. You should run along to your dorm then. If you keep having trouble sleeping, I want you to come see me, alright?" McGonagall whispered to her, nudging her back, hurrying her along.

Watching the witch walk away from her, McGonagall turned around and saw Severus's portrait, the man in question not moving. Closing her eyes, she felt pain shoot through her heart, feeling a rush of guilt clutch her.

Shaking her head, she walked away from the frame, feeling his eyes watch her walk away.

 

Hermione laid in bed that night, thoughts running a mile a minute.

Memories.

The _memories._

 

_Flashback to a year before:_

Hermione kept her eyes on her DADA professor, noticing changes in his eating habits, and residential behavior to his students, and also to the other teachers. He was a lot more distant. Almost never in sight anymore.

Hermione carried on with her studies, ignoring Ron for the most part, and keeping an eye on Harry with that damnable Potions book. He seemed to be glued to it.

Professor Dumbledore seemed more distant now as well, he spent most of his time talking to Harry, or holed up in his office.

 

Hermione sat in the library, absently flipping through the pages, not really paying attention to the contents in its creases.

Suddenly, a figure gliding past the window caught her attention.

Professor Snape.

Hermione ducked down, closing her book, making sure he didn't see her.

He hadn't.

Hermione swiftly got up, swishing her wand, folding her school materials in her satchel, shoving it onto her shoulder, hastily making her way out of the library.

Looking around, she caught sight of him turning a corner, and she moved quickly to follow behind, making sure to keep out of sight.

He was moving fast, and Hermione had to be mindful not to make too much noise.

He stopped suddenly, and Hermione backed up into a corner, crouching low. She was far off from him, but she wanted to be _sure_ he couldn't spot her.

Turning his head, he looked out the window into the courtyard, eying the sunshine that beamed down onto the statues. His eyes when have they ever looked like that?

Hermione felt her heart beat speed up at the sheer intensity of the dread that took over his stance now. His head hung low, his right hand covering his left forearm, and Hermione knew what he was trying to hide.

His mark.

Lanky hair falling in his face, he continued to move forward, releasing the hold on his arm now, and standing up straight, leaving the broken man behind him, throwing up his walls once more.

Hermione felt a beating her throat, and she stood up, clutching onto the stone wall that held her trapped.

What was that?

She had _never_ seen Professor Snape look that way before.

Never ever.

She had to find out what was happening.

Was the Dark Lord planning something? Was Professor Snape keeping it a secret?

He wouldn't do that. Professor Dumbledore trusted him. And so did Hermione.

But, she had to find the reason behind Professor Snape's strange behavior.

 

In Defense against the Dark Arts the next day, Hermione had a plan formed. And it was _brilliant._ There was no way he _wouldn't_ take her bait.

None.

Hermione felt Ron's eyes on her as she faced ahead, and that made her clench her teeth, closing her eyes, willing her strength forward.

He made his bed, now he can lie in it.

Harry leaned towards her, being in the middle of the squabbling friends.

"Hermione. This silent treatment has to end. Ron is with Lavender now. Why can't you be happy for him?"

Hermione gave him a side glare, and he instantly straightened back up, almost leaning _away_ from her now.

Good.

Maybe he would trying to be the peacemaker now.

The door slamming, made Hermione devoid of any ludicrous thoughts of _Ron_ or _Lavender._

Professor Snape still had the bags under his eyes, his hair still lanky, his eyes still devoid of _anything._

Stopping in front of the class, he flicked his wand, conjuring up some portraits.

The lesson today was on the effects of a long standing cruciatus curse, and Hermione tuned in entirely, flicking her hand up at every question, making Professor Snape grit his teeth in agitation.

"Miss Granger." He seethed, eyes filled with loathing towards her know-it-all attitude.

Hermione smirked, which caused Professor Snape to glower even harder.

"You think your annoying attitude is humorous, Miss Granger? Maybe you'll find serving detention with me humorous as well?"He snapped.

Hermione shrank in her seat, which caused _him_ to smirk now.

"Two nights in my detentions, Miss Granger. You'll be scrubbing every inch of this classroom."

Hermione heard Ron and Harry grumble something darkly underneath their breath, but she herself nodded, saying a small 'yes sir.'

 

"I can't believe you have detention with the greasy bat." Harry said to her, walking out the door with her, noticing her lack of attention to what he was saying.

"Hermione? Are you really upset with me for trying to fix things between you and Ron?" He asked, looking like a slapped puppy.

Hermione herself smiled, and looped her arm with his.

"Of course not Harry, sorry, my mind is just on the unjust detention I have to serve tonight." She lied, the both of them walking to lunch.

 

Hermione knocked on the classroom door, watching it give way, swinging open fully in front of her.

Walking in, she shut the door behind her, noticing no-one in the room.

Where was Professor Snape? He was _never_ late.

Shrugging, she set her bag down, moving about the room now.

Everything was so dreary in here.

Suddenly, the banging of the classroom door brought her attention towards the back.

And in stormed Professor Snape.

"Sit." He said to her, looking straight ahead, flopping himself at his own desk, taking a deep breath in and out.

Hermione could feel the anger roll off of him.

What had just happened?

"Miss Granger." He growled, slapping his wand against the wood of the desk.

Hermione jumped a little and hurried to her seat, sitting directly in front of him.

Silence.

"Write two pages, front _and_ back, saying 'I am a know-it-all."' He demanded her, writing something down on his own paper.

Why was he having her do that? Hadn't he told her that he was going to make her clean the room from top to bottom?

Strange. He always carried through with his detention threats.

Hermione looked at him once more, seeing the deep concentration he was eliciting.

Halfway through her scribblings, Hermione heard a loud hiss, and she looked at him as he grabbed his left forearm.

"S-Sir?" She mumbled.

"Did I tell you to stop writing?" He managed to ask her, teeth clenched so tightly, Hermione thought some would fall out.

"B-But you're in pain, sir." She said, being bold.

Whipping his head up, he glared at her, his right hand still over his left forearm.

"Yes. And it's none of your business." He snapped.

Hermione continued to stare at him, watching as he _tried_ to ignore the pain.

She honestly didn't know what provoked her to ask him this very _bold_ question. But, it just came out.

"He's calling you, isn't he?"

Silence.

Professor Snape stopped moving, running his eyes up to clash with her own.

Hermione was looking at him softly, and he looked down quickly.

He said _nothing_.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded.

"Miss Granger. Get out." He told her, sounding tired.

Hermione stared at him a little longer, but nodded, getting up and grabbing her satchel, shrugging in onto her shoulder.

Looking back once more, she saw him lower his head, his eyes now level with the wood of his desk. 

 

Snape dropped his arms on the wood of the desk, folding his hands over his eyes.

Sighing tiredly, after awhile he stood on shaky feet, making his way out of the classroom, to his own rooms.

Moving inside, he felt the same burning twinge rip up his arm. Hissing, he grabbed it again, not understanding _why_ it was doing this. Was something wrong with the Dark Lord? He had seen him two days before, and everything seemed in order.

Rumors had been adrift that he was _testing_ those loyal to him.

This was probably one of the tests.

Gritting his teeth, he imaged Miss Grangers face again. And her being _her_ , she had to ask her inane questions.

Of course.

Stupid chit.

Severus sat on his bed, laying backwards, trying to ignore the ongoing pain.

Maybe tonight he would find sleep.

That wasn't likely.


End file.
